As Good as it Gets
by NCISBONESgirl
Summary: Richard Castle has issues of his own, but he'd never let on. What goes on in Castle's head while he's bust taking care of everyone else. Two shot. Castle-centric but not from his POV. Hard to describe genre wise. Slightly Caskett-y. Pre-47 Seconds.
1. Chapter 1

**Some of you may have noticed my recent absence from FF. This is due to the fact that I've been working on my own book (this is where you all go, "Yay!", even though you've never heard of said book). I know, exciting stuff. I'll go back to it after this, but I couldn't leave this alone. **

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, ABC, or any of it's affiliates._**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Richard Castle returned home, absolutely exhausted.

He shut his door heavily behind him, and hung up his jacket on the coat tree. It may have been spring, but it was still chilly in Manhattan. He rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily.

It had been a long day.

Of course, they had all been long days as of late. He may not have looked like it, but Castle was a man with a lot on his mind. He tried his best to be upbeat and silly, but, in his opinion, it was starting to show.

He could see it all over his face when he looked in the mirror. It looked as if his life had walked all over him, leaving a map of his trials on his skin and in his eyes. There were certain telltale signs he couldn't ignore; he had large bags and shadows under his eyes, deep lines around his mouth, creases between his eyebrows, and – if he was honest with himself – his Atlantic blue eyes didn't hold the same spark they once did.

Castle looked _old._

The almost eternal youth he had possessed four years ago seemed to be completely gone now. As was the man he was then. He supposed a certain amount of fame, parties, and your best friend being a teenager would keep one young.

He also supposed dealing with death, tragedy, and unrequited love would also age one.

Castle meandered into the kitchen and pulled out a beer. He popped it open, took a sip, and then wandered into his office to his window. There were other windows in the loft, of course, but this one was distinctly _his._ It was his thinking window, and he had a lot to think about.

Surely he hadn't been this old four years ago.

He didn't feel like he had aged four years, but ten. Twenty, on a bad day. It didn't make very much sense to him. He had followed people for research purposes before. He had written book series before. He had fallen in love before. He shouldn't have felt as ancient as he did. As worn.

It was her, he supposed.

Castle shook his head and sighed audibly, scolding himself internally as he took a swig of his beer. He hated himself when he blamed Kate for how he was feeling. It wasn't her fault. It couldn't be her fault. She wasn't doing it on purpose. She would never, ever do this to him on purpose. Kate was a good person. Wonderful, actually. Just…troubled. He couldn't blame her for this feeling.

Besides, _she_ was the one who felt bad, not him. Kate had been through hell and back. Her mother had been murdered, then several other people – some of which were close friends of hers, and then she had been shot herself. She had so much on her plate. It was his job to comfort her, be her light, and take care of her. In fact, he thought he did a pretty good job, if he did say so himself. She opened up to him more now, trusted him.

Who was he to add his own problems to her already heavy mind? Kate had enough to deal with.

That didn't make his own problems go away, however. Lately, Castle had been wondering about his father, having to deal with both Paula and Gina whenever book sales dropped even slightly, worrying about Alexis going off to college in the fall, trying to win over Captain Gates, and, of course, trying to keep Kate alive and happy.

Admittedly, it was starting to weigh him down. It was a heavy burden to bear alone, but he was managing. It all came with the role of caretaker. He was the shoulder to cry on, the ear to listen, the hand to hold, the advice when someone needed it most, the kind eye, and the warm embrace. He went above and beyond to care for those he loved, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

However, that did mean that Castle had made a vow to himself to keep his personal problems away from those people. The only problems Kate and he discussed were her own, as was the case with Alexis and his mother. He spent his days navigating Alexis through the perils of signing up and getting ready for college, fixing things and the acting school and funding it when necessary, and making Kate laugh at least once every hour.

But now, he was tired.

"Dad?"

Castle turned around; fixing his face into one that was pleasant. "Oh, hey there kiddo." He smiled at her and took a seat at his desk. Smiling took extra effort at the moment. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing really," Alexis said with a bored shrug. She hopped up on the corner of his desk. "Just wandering around."

Castle nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'm doing the same thing," he agreed easily. "Any of your friends in town?"

"Ugh, no," Alexis rolled her eyes. "_Everyone _is on vacation."

"Well," Castle pretended to think for a moment. "You know, you _could_ always have a super cool weekend bash at the Hamptons house…no adults, of course."

Alexis eyed her father as if he'd come from another planet. "That's insane."

"It'd be fun!"

"Well, yes, but…" Alexis shook her head. "But no supervision? In the Hamptons?"

Castle smirked. "You're eighteen."

"I…" Alexis opened and closed her mouth a few times. "I'll call Casey," she whispered, and then darted out of the room. A few seconds later, however, she poked her head back in.

"That was fast," Castle quipped.

"I haven't called her yet," Alexis said. "I was just…"

Castle's eyebrows rose. "Just…?"

Alexis shifted her weight and analyzed him for a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Castle forced his tone to be light, and gave her a smile. "I'm great."

Alexis smiled back at him. "Good. I'd hate to think that something was wrong."

"Not a thing," Castle waved a hand at her. "Now go call your friend before she goes to bed."

"Okay, thanks Dad!" she said excitedly, and darted off again.

The smile slid off of Castle's face, and he sighed for the third time since arriving home. Everyone else was going to sleep tonight happy, and that was the important thing. Being the caretaker was tough, but it was worth it. Or at least he really hoped it would be twenty or thirty years from now. Seeing them smile kept him going in the mean time.

He got up, went into his bedroom, and began to get ready for bed. He didn't turn on the light – he didn't need it to know where everything was. He climbed into bed, and stared up at the ceiling. It was late, and he knew he had to get up early in the morning. He would have to sleep soon.

Perhaps this was as good as it got.

* * *

**Review, if you please.**


	2. Chapter 2

**This goes to , because she asked for one more. **

**I should also mention this is set pre-47 Seconds. **

_**Disclaimer: I do not own ABC, Castle, or any of their affiliates.**_

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Two days later, Castle woke up and stared at the ceiling.

He didn't have anything to do that day; They had wrapped up the case yesterday, Alexis was in the Hamptons, his mother was teaching an acting boot camp of sorts that stretched through the weekend, and he had been banned from writing the last fourth of _Frozen Heat_ until what he had already written was finished being reviewed.

He had planned on sleeping in, but that hadn't really worked out for him. It was only eight, but he was wide-awake. However due to the lack of both a to-do list and people in the loft, he was having a difficult time finding motivation to get out of bed. So he stretched, shifted, and stared at the ceiling.

Castle contented himself in this manor for a bit, letting his mind wander anywhere away from the city and the loft. Anything to take his mind off the fact that he was alone. He used to do the same thing growing up while his mother was off performing. He would sit somewhere, and let his mind take him somewhere more pleasant. It was what made him the man he had grown up to be. What made him a writer.

It was funny – in kind of a sad way – how he had gotten everything he thought he wanted, and still wound up where he had started.

Castle drug himself out of bed around ten, took a long shower, got dressed, and then ate cereal for breakfast. He didn't see the point in cooking if he was the only one eating. He did it for everyone else.

After he finished, he put his bowl in the sink, and stood there for a moment, looking around the empty loft.

_What now?_

He spotted a dried sauce splatter on the countertop from last night's dinner. He grabbed a rag and a bottle of cleaner and wiped it up, and then continued on to wipe down all of the counters. He swept and mopped the floor, and washed the few dishes in the sink, and cleaned out the fridge.

From there, Castle moved on to the living room. He vacuumed, organized, and dusted. He repeated the process in every room in the loft. He cleaned every crevice, and thought about the story of this place that he had called his home. He thought about raising Alexis, and staying up late writing, taking in his mother when she had nothing and nowhere to go, and playing board games on rainy days. Then he thought about the more recent chapter of the story. He thought about the first time Kate had come over, when she had stayed with him when her apartment blew up, when he had caught Alexis and Ashley kissing, when his mother moved back in, and when Alexis had brought the whole place under a gloom when she got rejected from Stanford.

Good God, had that much time really passed?

Castle blinked against the unbidden wetness in his eyes and sighed. His baby was grown. He had undoubtedly entered another new chapter. For the first time, however, he wasn't sure how this chapter would look. He thought maybe he was making progress with Kate, but maybe not. He could never say for sure. And without Alexis living at home, and his mother constantly out and about…

He felt a pang in his heart, and he recognized what he was feeling. He was lonely.

Of course, he would never admit this. To most everyone, Richard Castle was a happy-go-lucky man-child. He had lots of friends, a loving family, and just maybe a little something going with that pretty Detective he followed around. He had a lot to do, and was quite busy. He lived a full life.

But sometimes it occurred to Castle that the persona was just that, and that the label didn't match the contents. Of course, he wasn't _un_happy, per se. You could be lonely without being unhappy.

Unsure of what to do next, he made his way to the living room and took a seat on the couch. Maybe he would see what was on television. He hadn't done that in quite some time. He settled on _30 Rock_, and watched for a bit.

A little over an hour later, his cell warbled next to him. He glanced at it, saw Kate's name and face, and smiled. "Well, hello there my dear Detective," he greeted her. "Body drop?"

Kate laughed, and he could practically hear her smile. "No, not this time. Social call, Cas, not work."

Castle felt his eyebrows rise. "Oh? Well, those are…I mean yeah, always welcome."

"What have you been up to today?" Kate asked.

"Oh, you know, I've just been being lazy. Taking advantage of the off day," he said. Telling her he cleaned the whole loft top to bottom would have sounded lame. He paused the show, and then asked, "What about you?"

"Eh, pretty much the same," Kate said. "Actually, I was kind of wanting to get out. Do you maybe want to get lunch or something?"

A wide grin made its way across Castle's face. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Okay, great," Kate sounded like her expression was similar. "I'll um, I'll meet you at that little deli on fifth?"

"Sure, sounds perfect," Castle agreed easily. He'd go anywhere.

"Awesome, I'll see you then."

"See you," Castle said, and then hung up. Hastily, he turned off the television, combed his hair, put on his shoes, and slipped on his jacket. He set out on foot to the deli – she picked a location only ten or so minutes away from his house. Besides, he could use the fresh air.

He arrived at the deli, and quickly spotted Kate in a booth by the window. He smiled at her, and she waved him over.

"Hey," she greeted him with a smile, taking in his slightly windblown appearance. "Did you walk here?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I wanted the fresh air."

"Not sure how fresh the air is here," Kate smirked. "It's Manhattan."  
"Okay, fresh smog versus stale loft air," Castle conceded.

She laughed. "Much better."

They talked and laughed for a while, and Castle felt the pain being numbed. There was nothing quite like a cheeseburger and someone you loved to chase away loneliness.

For that afternoon, they didn't talk about death, or murder, or crime, or pain. They didn't speak of anything dark, and they didn't venture into the depths of loss. They spoke lightly about life, and joked, and enjoyed the others company.

And moments like that, when Castle and whomever he was with were just enjoying the other one and life, and there weren't any pressing problems that he needed to attend to were what he loved the most. When whomever he was with didn't need advice, comforting, an ear or a shoulder, and they just wanted to be with him.

Those moments were what made it all worth it.

* * *

**Review?**


End file.
